


Our Humble Beginnings

by courtneyinthetardis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9446897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneyinthetardis/pseuds/courtneyinthetardis
Summary: My first attempt at Uni!lock. Hope I do well!





	1. First Impressions are Often Quite Wrong

Molly let her bag hang loosely on the crook of her arm as she juggled her water bottle and massive anatomy book. She had a break between her classes and opted to take advantage of the rare sunshine and spend her time outside. There was a large tree in front of her lab building she liked to sit under even in the worst weather conditions but she was grateful that today was an exception from the norm. 

She had a test coming up next period, a test that was worth a large chunk of her grade, and Molly was determined to pass it with flying colors. She knew that she was well prepared for it and could probably recite the text word by word but she felt you could never be too sure. 

She spent the next twenty minutes or so thumbing through her ridiculously oversized book and sipping drinks of water. Just as she was about to break out her flashcards she heard a commotion coming from the other side of the lawn. Sighing she put her study materials back down and stood up to get a better look at what was causing all the ruckus. 

To her surprise, she saw a dark haired, lanky young man storming from the building opposite of hers with a group of her peers following close behind. Seeing that the poor guy was completely outnumbered, she shocked even herself as she stepped forward and began making her way towards them. 

“Holmes!” Samuel, a boy in her next class called out to him, “Get back here, you freak!”

The man in question, Holmes, continued to stalk forward with his eyes narrowed. 

The group were drawing nearer and nearer to him and Molly felt panic rise in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure why she was reacting in such a way, she’d never seen this man before in her life; natural fear for another human she assumed. 

“Hey!” a larger boy that Molly didn’t know grabbed hold of Holmes’ shoulder and yanked him around, “Sammy is talking to you, Holmes. What the hell was that back there, huh? You proud of yourself?”

Holmes stiffened under the larger man’s touch but did not shrink away, “I am not proud, I was simply stating the facts. Your friend,” he nodded in Sammy’s direction, “clearly cheated on the test. It was obvious. It is not my fault that he did little to hide it.” 

“You didn’t have to announce it in front of the whole class. I’m gonna fail this course because of you!”

“No,” Molly held her breath as the mysterious man spoke, “you’re going to fail the course because of your own stupidity. By the way,” he paused, a knowing smirk plastered on his face, “does your girlfriend know you’re cheating on her with Brandon?” 

The larger man that held a grip on Holmes, Molly later learned this, in fact, was Brandon, gritted his teeth and snarled in Holmes’ face. “I’ll make you pay for that, freak!” 

Before Molly could blink the man punched Holmes in the face. Surprisingly, the dark-haired man fought back. Molly was sure that he could have taken Brandon if not for Sammy’s three other goons joining in. Four against one, not exactly a fair fight. Molly had, had enough.

“Oi!” she yelled approaching them, “You lot get off of him! Hardly a fair fight, is it?”

They ignored her by throwing their victim to the ground and kicking him for good measure. Becoming annoyed, Molly dropped to her knees beside of him and glared at them until they gave up. 

Hating to see anyone bullied, Molly continued to glare and spoke up, “Now move along. You’ve got what you’ve wanted. Sam, we have a test next period, I suggest you get to studying, I’ve tutored you, I know your study habits leave a lot to be desired.”

Sammy looked as though he may argue with her but decided against it. The rest of his gang followed after him but not without throwing final death stares in the injured man’s direction. After they’d finally gone, Molly turned her attention back to the man lying beneath her. He had a pretty impressive bruise forming on his right cheek, his nose was bleeding, and he had a scratch on his face. She was sure he had other injuries but his clothing prevented her from seeing so. This was the first time she allowed herself to really notice the man. He had impossibly sharp cheekbones, and his dark brown, almost black hair hung in lovely curls. His eyes, though half-lidded, were a striking shade she’d never before seen and he had the most perfect cupid’s bow. He was beautiful. 

“Are you alright?” she finally managed to choke out.

He groaned a little, “Well, I’ve certainly been better,” he snapped. He attempted to sit up but she could tell he was dizzy. Despite his rudeness she offered him a hand to help him stand. He tried to pull his hand away from her as soon as they stood but he began to wobble once he was on his feet and reached out to her again. 

“I was only being polite,” she suggested, “you could say thank-you, they were doing quite a number on you.”

He thought for a moment, “Thank you.” It sounded more questioning than genuine but she’d take it.

She rummaged through her pockets to bring out a travel sized packet of tissues and handed them to him. “Here,” she said, “for the nose bleed. You probably should go see the nurse, though something tells me that you won’t.”

He studied the offer before taking it. 

She released a breath through her nose, “Well, I better go. I have a test soon. You really should go see a nurse though.”

She began walking back to her belongings that she had left at the tree when something compelled her to turn around, “Molly, by the way,” she called out to him, “Molly Hooper.”

He straightened a bit. She saw that he had taken some tissues and clogged his bleeding nose with them. She fought the urge to giggle as he looked a bit like a walrus. “Sherlock Holmes,” he answered. 

She smiled, “Well, perhaps I’ll see you around, Sherlock Holmes,” she said with a wave.

When she arrived back at the tree she turned to see that he had gone. ‘Sherlock,’ she mused, ‘what an odd name.’


	2. Brother Dearest

It would be two weeks before Molly would see the quirky Sherlock Holmes again. It happened as she sat outside taking a lunch break from studying. She was halfway through her bag of crisps and sandwich when she felt a presence behind her. Confused, she craned her neck upwards to see the strange man from two weeks prior looking down at her with a wide smile plastered on his face.

“Molly!” he greeted enthusiastically, “I thought I would find you here!” In a flash he was sitting beside of her and picking a crisp from her plate and popping it into his mouth. She gaped at him in disbelief and tried to think of a reason for his behavior; she hardly knew him! 

“Sherlock?” she greeted questioningly. 

His eyes met hers briefly before they gazed over her completely to stare across the yard. Her eyes followed his line of sight to see that they were being watched by a man Molly had never seen before. He was tall and slender with a head full of chestnut brown hair. He was dressed in a smart three-piece suit and he carried an umbrella; this she found odd as there had been no forecast of rain. Was he a professor? A non-traditional older student? Not that he looked ancient, he just appeared older than the students Molly had grown accustomed to seeing.

“Laugh,” Sherlock whispered to her.

She turned her head back to him, “I’m sorry?”

“Laugh,” he said again. 

She looked at him as if he were absolutely mad. She weakly chuckled but judging by the displeased look on Sherlock’s face she gathered he’d wanted more of a display than that. 

“Why should I laugh?” She asked him, “Who is that?”

Sherlock flicked a quick glance over her shoulder again and leaned in, “My older brother, Mycroft. He's been following me for a good half an hour. Mummy and Daddy have sent him to look in on me. They worry I won’t make any friends and will fall into old habits if I isolate myself for too long.”

“Old habits?” she asked.

He sighed, “Long story.” 

She frowned at his vagueness but didn’t press the matter. When Sherlock groaned beside of her she turned in Mycroft’s direction again to see the man was taking long strides towards them. Seeing the look of agony on Sherlock’s face she decided to help him out.

“And I told my professor, there’s no way I’m giving up a chance to get extra credit,” she said suddenly, Sherlock looked perplexed at first but seemed to catch on quite quickly.

“I don’t blame you,” he answered, “the nerve!”

She clamped her lips together and tried not to laugh at his dramatics. She wasn’t sure why she was going to such lengths to help a total stranger, but something about being in his presence felt natural. As though she’d known him for years. 

“Pardon the interruption,” a posh voice declared. 

Finally seeing Mycroft up close, Molly could see the resemblance between him and his brother. It wasn’t something you would notice if you’d seen them together on the street, but something in the way they carried themselves. 

“Not at all,” Molly answered sweetly. She smiled at him and he smiled back; though she could tell it wasn’t genuine. 

“Mycroft,” Sherlock greeted gruffly. 

“Sherlock,” he answered in equal lack of enthusiasm. 

“Molly,” Molly chirped, extending her hand towards Mycroft, “Molly Hooper.”

The man studied her hand a moment before lightly taking it in his own. Despite it not being terribly cold out his hand was like ice. His arm moved up and down stiffly like a statue and his facial expression depicted nothing. ‘Clearly not a people person,’ Molly thought to herself. 

“Mycroft,” Sherlock said, “I’m afraid you caught us at a bad time. Molly and I were just leaving. Right, Molly?” 

“So soon?” Mycroft asked knowingly, “I was hoping I could get to know your new friend. She is your friend, right?”

“Of course she’s my friend,” he insisted arrogantly, ‘aren’t you Molly?”

Catching the tone of desperation in his voice she nodded, “Oh yeah, course.”

“Really?” Mycroft didn’t sound convinced, “Even after you told her about your little habit? Or why you’re just now getting back into university?”

“Not the type to pass judgement, Mr. Holmes,” Molly answered. 

Mycroft looked at Molly up and down. Being under his gaze was like being scolded with a hot iron. She felt that he could see every dirty little secret that she had. It was unsettling.

“Right,” he finally answered, “well, Miss Hooper, it seems my little brother has found himself quite the companion in you. Mummy and Daddy will be most pleased to hear that you’ve made a friend, Sherlock. I’m sure you’ll want to have her round for brunch soon.”

Molly smiled uneasily, “Sounds lovely.”

“I’m not sure I would go that far, Miss Hooper,” Mycroft deadpanned, “I trust that you’ll stay out of trouble, Sherlock?”

“Yes, yes,” he answered insistently.

“Glad to hear it,” Molly would argue that Mycroft didn’t appear glad but she dared not say anything, “I have places I need to be but I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Sherlock. I’m not taking any nonsense this time. Don’t make me come back again soon.”

Sherlock smirked and Molly had a feeling Mycroft would love to whack that smirk off his brother’s face with his umbrella.

“Good day to you, Miss Hooper,” Mycroft quickly said and turned on his heel and was eventually out of sight.

“Sherlock, what was that all about?” Molly asked him as soon as Mycroft was out of earshot.

He got up and began to walk away from her. Annoyance rose within her and she rushed to throw her leftovers in her bag and ran to catch up with him. She pulled on his scarf and the action caused him to stumble back a bit.

“Hey!” she shouted, “I was talking to you. I just did you a favor for the second time in two weeks, I think the least you could do is talk to me.”

She could tell he was biting back a smart remark but thought better of it. He towered over her with a stony facial expression and she berated herself for thinking about how good looking he was in that moment. 

“I’m a junkie,” he told her flatly, “was a junkie,” he corrected himself.

“Not anymore?” she asked.

“Well, once a junkie always a junkie, they say,” he said airily, “but I’m no longer using if that’s what you mean.”

She nodded slowly, “Alright, you used to take drugs. That’s why you’re being monitored?”

“I was forced to get help,” he explained, “I was in university before and flunked out because I quit going to classes. My brother knew I was up to something but once I was kicked out of school my entire family found out. They sent me away to kick my addiction. They allowed me to leave and return to school under the condition that I stay off drugs and became more sociable. Though, I believe they had little faith in me. That’s where you came in. You’re the only person who hasn’t referred to me as a freak since my arrival. You hate lying but you’re kind in nature so I assumed you would help.”

“How do you know? We’ve barely spoken?”

“I notice things others do not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Upon our first meeting I knew you were kind in nature as you insisted on helping me even though I was less than kind to you. Your eyes went to my injuries immediately, weighing the severity, so pursuing a degree in medicine. Now that I’ve had a chance to see your open school bag I can see that you plan on pursuing a career in pathology. You’re well liked but you often choose to be alone. Every time I see you around campus you are alone but people stop and talk to you when they see you out.”

“That’s,” she was at a loss for words, “that’s very good.”

He smiled, “I know. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“You’d be an asset to the police with skill like that.”

“I’m hoping to be,” he told her as they both began walking, “I’m going to continue studying chemistry and then after that, who knows, I may work as a consultant to the police department.”

“Maybe we’d work together,” she joked, “I’d autopsy the bodies and you’d find the murderers!”

He chuckled lightly, “Perhaps.”

They walked in silence for a while before hitting a point where they would have to turn left or right, “I have to go to the lab to work on a project,” she told him. His face seemed to fall a little as she said so. Maybe he didn’t actually want to be alone? “You could come along if you’d like? Look at some samples with me?”

He didn’t smile but something behind his eyes seemed to light up at her words, “Alright.”

As they continued on their way Sherlock said, “You do know my parents are actually going to expect you for brunch now, right?”

Molly laughed in response. It looks like she would be seeing a lot more of Sherlock Holmes after all.


	3. Roommates and Sleepovers and Exams, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get comfy, kiddies, this is a long one! Also, I think it is important to note that this is not a present-day University AU. It is more of a 90's AU, seeing as I'm assuming that's when they would actually have been in University.

October passed in a blur, November in a gust of upcoming winter wind, and now, as December began, so did exams. Molly hadn’t expected Sherlock to be an ever-present character in the months that followed their happenstance meeting. He’d followed her to the lab that night in the beginning of October, attempted to do her project for her, and she’d expected him to storm out when she berated him for it; but to her surprise, he stayed. 

An odd sort of friendship occurred between them. A friendship where she would set out to do a task and he would insist upon following her. She wouldn’t compare his tagalongs to those of a lost puppy, but to someone who needed someone else to hear him speak. Whether she was doing her laundry, or doing her homework, or trying to nap, he was there, speaking at a rapid pace about things that would appear as nonsense as an outsider. 

He even got into the habit of following her on the few dates that she did go on. At first, she couldn’t help but wonder if he did it out of jealously, but after the third occurrence it became very aware that he honestly thought the men she dated were not worthy of her time. He was protective, but not jealous; she couldn’t help but be heartbroken at the thought. She didn’t mean to go and fall for the stone-faced chemistry major, but it had happened. Damn. 

He seemed to be completely unaware of her feelings for him, which she was grateful for; she didn’t want anything to ruin their friendship. Even though he could be quite callous at times, he really wasn’t a horrid person. He had moments of genuine kindness, mixed with faux kindness when he wanted her to do something for him; which she did, time and time again. But something about this friendship worked.

“Where are you going?” Molly’s roommate asked her from her side of the room.

Molly was busy pulling her hair half up/half down with a bobby pin in her mouth. She spoke the best she could with the object between her lips, “Sherlock’s,” she mumbled, “studying for exams. Plus, he needs to talk through his latest case. You know he’s useless unless he talks out loud to someone or something.”

Harry Watson frowned, “Does it ever bother you that you might as well be an inanimate object he’s talking at rather than a human being he’s talking to?”

Molly turned around and rested her waist against her desk, crossing her arms, “Sometimes,” she admitted, “but I like to think he prefers to talk to me.”

Harry shook her head but allowed a small smile to grace her lips, “Honestly Molly, I’ve never seen you so smitten. It pains me he’s such a tosser.”

“Oh, come now,” Molly teased, “you know he’s not that bad. I think he actually sort of likes you,” as Harry gave her a skeptical look, she added, “in his own way.”

“He prefers Clara, I believe,” she told her, “speaking of, how late are you going to be tonight? Clara is supposed to come over so we can spend some time together before she leaves for her parents.”

“She not bringing you home for Christmas?” Molly asked sadly.

She could see the pain in her friend’s eyes, “No. She doesn’t um, think her parents are ready to meet her girlfriend just yet. Seeing as the last time she saw them she was with a bloke.”

Molly bit her lip nervously, “Have you written John?”

“No,” Harry answered quickly, “and I don’t intend to.”

Harry’s blue/grey eyes bore into Molly’s brown ones in determination. Molly loved her friend dearly and she found herself worried about her well-being constantly. She’d never forget the day that she had met her; a beautiful, plump-ish, short lady with long platinum, almost grey hair. Her eyes matched her face like a dream and she had the kindest smile Molly had ever seen. They’d gotten along swimmingly from day one. One night, a few years back, Harry had broken down in tears in front of Molly and admitted that she was a lesbian. She’d been too afraid to tell anyone else before and Molly had hugged her and held her as she cried in either relief or fear; Molly was never sure which.

Molly had met Harry’s brother John on move in day her first year at uni when she had met Harry. He was a handsome, short man with the same color hair and eyes as his sister. He was quite a bit older than her and already in the midst of medical school. Last year, after their parents had died in a car accident, he’d informed Harry that he intended on becoming an army doctor. This, to Harry, felt like abandonment and she’d scarcely spoken to him since.

“Come now,” Molly said in a pleading tone, “he misses you. There’s a stack of letters to my knees from him just this year alone.”

Harry said nothing.

Molly sighed, “Fine, just promise me you’ll think about it.” 

“I’ll consider it.”

A smile crept upon her face, “Good. Well, I can always see if I can stay over at Nadine’s. I think her roommate has taken exams early. She’d probably like the company. You know Nadine anyway, up all hours of the night. I’ll just pop over after I get done at Sherlock’s. It won’t be a problem. You and Clara deserve tonight.”

Harry got up from her lying position on the bed and hugged her best friend. 

Bundling up in a jumper and bobble hat, Molly made her way across campus to the building that occupied Sherlock’s living quarters. Sherlock came from money and lived in one of the nicer buildings on the property. Though Molly wouldn’t have her living arrangement any other way, she envied that Sherlock’s private room had its own loo. She was thankful when she reached his door because her school bag was close to breaking both its strap and her arm under the weight of the books it contained. 

She didn’t even bother knocking as she knew he was expecting her. She was surprised though, that when she entered, he was nowhere to be found. Shrugging off her bag, she’d decided he’d probably be back eventually; God knows where he’d gone off to. She sat her books on his desk and began to clear off a space to write when she saw an open letter to her right. 

Curiosity getting the best of her, she quickly scanned its contents and could not believe what she was reading. Well, she could believe it, but she didn’t want to. Hearing the door knob being turned she quickly placed her heavy textbook on top of it and pretended to be reading. 

“Evening Sherlock,” she greeted without looking up from her book, “have a last-minute case, did you?”

He hummed, confirming her assumption, “Yes, a three as it turns out, barely worth my time.” She could hear him throw his coat dramatically on the bed behind her, with him following suit. “Why are you pretending to read?”

Her face flushed red. She’d been caught! But how? That’s when she realized, in her haste, she’d had the book upside down.

“Challenging myself to read upside down?” she tried. Worth a shot.

She didn’t have to look at him to know he was raising a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“Fine,” she relented, pivoting in her seat to look at him. He was lying on the bed on his back, but instead of having his fingers steeped under his chin in his “thinking position” he was looking right at her. “I was getting ready to set up for studying when I saw the open letter from Dr. Higgins on your desk. Curiosity killed the cat I suppose,” she chuckled nervously, “Sherlock, do you realize how serious this is?”

He seemed unfazed by her invasion of privacy, Lord knows he didn’t mind going through her things time and time again, “What does it matter?”

“Sherlock,” she scolded, “if you don’t ace his exam, you’re finished. Why haven’t you turned any assignments in? Why aren’t you going to classes? Actually,” she thought for a moment, “why is it when we meet after class you come out from that building if you’re not attending classes?”

His gaze flicked away from her and she thought he almost looked embarrassed. It’s a look she’s never see grace his face before. “Hold on, are you,” she paused, not believing it herself, “are you pretending to leave class so I won’t tell Mycroft on you?”

He shot her a look of disbelief, “Of course not. I know you’d never do that.”

She released an exasperated sigh, “Then the only reason I could think of is that you wanted to hide all of this from me. In that case, I’ve no idea why.”

The look of embarrassment was back yet again and she furrowed her brow at him, “Oh my God, that is it, isn’t it? But why? Why would you care to hide it from me at all?”

At first, she thought he wouldn’t answer her, but he shocked her by doing so almost immediately, “I didn’t,” he cleared his throat, “I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed? Sherlock, why would you care that I would be disappointed in you or not? You barely notice I’m in the room most of the time. I might as well be an inanimate object you speak at.”

He sat up and regarded her for a moment. She was afraid she’d crossed some sort of line, seeing as they rarely talked about feelings in the slightest, but he didn’t look angry; he looked…..confused. Well, that certainly was new. Embarrassment and confusion all in one day. 

“You honestly believe I think so little of you, Molly?”

“Honestly?” she asked, “Maybe a little. I’m not dumb but I’m not exactly on your level though either, am I? You must grow quite bored of me.”

He swallowed hard, as if he didn’t know what to say. She knew this sort of talk was hardly Sherlock’s area. She also knew they’d only known each other for a few short months and wasn’t sure why her feelings of disappointment would upset him so. 

“You’re my friend,” he admitted, although it looked to pain him to do so, “people don’t, particularly like me, Molly. They like what I can do for them, but me as an individual, not so much. You seem to like me, even though I do nothing for you, and I can’t figure out why. I suppose,” he shrugged, “that must be friendship. The thought of you knowing I wasn’t keeping up with my studies bothered me. And it bothered me that I didn’t understand why it bothered me, but here we are nonetheless.”

She knew she was smiling like a fool but she didn’t really care. She got up from his desk and sat next to him on the bed. Sure, she was 99% sure she was falling in love with him, but just him being this vulnerable, admitting something that was hard for him to admit, was something. Something she felt she should help him with.

“Whole friend thing new to you, then?” she teased.

“Don’t make this harder on me than it already is, Molly,” he complained.

She laughed, “What ever will Mycroft think? Baby brother has a friend. The scandal!”

“Molly,” he warned.

“I’m just teasing you,” she elbowed him lightly, “besides, you’re my friend too. And I do like you, Sherlock. Honestly. I’m not sure why at times, as you can be cruel, but, I know, deep down, you don’t mean to be.”

He smiled at that.

“Now come on, how about I finish making these notecards so you can tell me all about your three case, yeah? Then I need to head to Nadine’s for the night. Clara is going to stay at mine tonight with Harry.”

She got up from the bed and headed back to the desk to get started. She nearly fell trying to sit back down as Sherlock said, “Why go to Nadine’s? It’s all the way across campus. Just stay here.”

As she grasped the seat below her she turned to him sharply, “I beg your pardon?”

He looked at her as if she had said something drastically stupid, “Stay here?”

“There’s only one bed,” she squeaked. 

“I’m aware of that,” he told her, “I do live here.”

“Won’t that be uncomfortable for you? You don’t exactly do human contact, Sherlock.”

He snorted, “I hardly sleep as it is. I’ll probably be up for the night thinking anyway. Besides, if I do for some reason change my mind and decide to sleep, you’ll hardly take up too much space. Isn’t that what friends do, have sleepovers or some nonsense?”

“Yes,” she answered slowly, “I suppose they do.”

“Good, then that’s settled.”

They sat in silence for a long time. Molly was unclear on how she had gone from a quick study and chat session with Sherlock Holmes to having a slumber party but she supposed she was in no room to complain. It was rather cold out and she really didn’t want to stay with Nadine. 

“By the way,” Sherlock said, breaking the silence that lingered, “what are your plans for Winter Break?”

She sighed internally, “I may go up North and stay with my Aunt and cousins. I also considered staying here and catching up on some reading.”

“Good,” he said, “so it’s decided, you’ll be joining my family for the duration of the break.”

For the second time that night she had to hold onto the chair to keep herself from falling to the floor, “Your family?”

“Mummy insists. After I told her about your familial situation she insisted upon having you stay.”

She swallowed hard. She tried not to think about her family this time of year. “Familial situation,” she repeated to herself in a whisper.

“Yes,” he said, “I informed her of your father passing away from cancer three years ago, and your mother’s suicide when you were twelve. With the added fact of no siblings I assumed you would either go visit your aunt, whom you dislike, or stay here alone. Mother was distraught at the idea.”

She could feel a tear roll down her cheek at his words. She didn’t know why she was so upset, it happened long ago and she found she didn’t cry about it as much as she used to. But the way Sherlock laid out her lonely life within a mere few sentences, she couldn’t help but feel sadness overcome her.

A tissue was being shoved in her face before she could even look up properly. She saw something flicker behind Sherlock’s eyes. Sympathy? Regret? She couldn’t be sure.

“I am sorry,” he said genuinely, “a bit not good?”

She chuckled through her tears, “No, it’s alright,” she assured him, “I know you didn’t mean it the way it came out. I just forget sometimes, as silly as it sounds. Sometimes you forget how alone you are until you’re reminded of it.”

“So, you’ll come? I’ve been lying to get you out of brunches these past few months but it seems Mummy has been catching onto me.”

“Sherlock!” she gasped, shocked, “why would you do that? She must think me so rude.”

He scoffed, “Hardly. She thinks you’re a saint. Every time we speak she asks about you. Mycroft sends her updates regularly. He’s oddly quite fond of you, though I don’t think he would ever admit it.”

“Are you sure it’s alright of me to come? I mean, a brunch visit it one thing, but we’re talking about me staying at least two weeks. I’ve only been in your life for a few months.”

“Perish the thought,” he waved his hand dismissively, “my parents have never laid eyes on you and already adore you. Father is just pleased I’ve managed keep anyone in my life for such an extended period of time. I do not think it’s too far to say you’re more welcome in my home at this point than I am.”

Molly considered his words. Two weeks would be a long time to be staying with Sherlock and his family. But, she would much rather be there than with her own horrid aunt and twin cousins. They were six years Molly’s senior and were both married with children. They all looked their noses down upon Molly’s chosen career path and the fact that she was single.

“It may also aid in your decision that your company would make my life much more bearable over the course of the break. Mycroft only stays for the week of Christmas itself, but being in his company for longer than twenty minutes is tedious.”

She snorted a laugh through her nose. She knew that was Sherlock’s way of telling her he wanted her there. It was settled: Molly Hooper was spending Winter Break with the Holmes’. It was only two weeks, what could possibly go wrong?

“Alright then, I’ll come,” she told him, “but you better take your exams and pass them all! I will not be the one telling your mother you flunked out!”


End file.
